The Good Son
by chinogirll
Summary: AU - Ryan is Sandy and Kirsten's real son.
1. Chapter 1

**The Good Son:**

Kirsten always wanted a normal son; a son that she would have feeling towards. One that wasn't selfish and self absorbed, and wouldn't make her feel like the worst mother on the planet. She remembered how 12 years ago the nurse at the hospital brought her to him, and as she saw him for the first time, she knew something was wrong with him right then and there.

She had to have an emergency Caesarean section, she didn't expect it. The pregnancy was going so well, and she hadn't even experienced any morning sickness, or anything else, but that evening she knew something was wrong. There was this strange, sharp pain, and the baby wasn't moving as much as he used to. Something inside her told her that she need to go to the hospital, NOW!

She remembered Sandy's panicked eyes and his reassurances; that everything will be okay, that they will get to the hospital and she'll be taken care of, he won't lose her or the baby, how he didn't even remember his life without her, that she was his world.

The hospital was busy that night; there was a big car accident and no one came to their assistance when they entered. Sandy helped her sit on the plastic chair next to the nurse's station and went running for help. Her pain growing worse, and in an attempt to distract herself from the pain she looked around the room. That was when she saw the blond woman for the first time. She looked so dirty and neglected, and looked about eight or nine months pregnant. Later, Kirsten had found out that she was brought out by her social worker, who had been concerned about her using drugs while pregnant and wanted her to be tested. But she had premature labor and had to be rushed to the hospital before any test was taken.

The doctor that examined Kirsten couldn't hear the baby's heart beat and ordered an emergency C-section. She was told she will be fully anesthetized during the operation. The doctor explained that she had to do it, that it's the only thing that would save the baby's life. She was scared, she didn't want to go under the knife, and she didn't want to be unconscious when her baby will be born. She had plans; Sandy was supposed to be there with her and help her practice her breathing, they bought a camera and were hoping to take pictures, this was their first child they were excited and happy. But now that happiness turned into fear.

Just before she was taken to the surgery room, she saw the blond woman again. The nurse had left the room, and the door open. There was a man next to her now, he looked big and threatening. The woman looked scared of him; he was shouting and cursing at the doctor next to him. But before she could understand what was happening there, she had been taken to surgery.

The baby was not all right. He was very small and very sick and the doctors didn't know what was wrong with him. He was placed in an incubator, and they were told that he has a 50% chance to survive. Kirsten was out of her mind with worry about the baby; she didn't want him to die. But when they brought her to him, she knew something was not right. Something inside her told her that there is something wrong with this kid, something more than physical, something that just did not make sense. But she blocked all those thought out, how could she think that? Her baby was sick, he was dying … she needed to be there for him. That's what mothers do.

She remembered the day the doctor told her that they're finally taking him out of the incubator. He was going to be all right and they could take him home in two weeks, she was so happy and relived. But that happiness did not last long.

Seth was a difficult baby, but she'd expected it. He was born sick and she knew she'd have her hands full with him. But as he grew older she realized there was something wrong with him, and it had nothing to do with his health – it was something else. She hated herself for thinking like that but she knew something was wrong with that kid, very wrong.

He used to sit around the house for hours playing video games, screaming at Kirsten to bring him food and drinks, and he would have a tantrum if he didn't get what he wanted, or if something did not go his way. Sandy and Kirsten tried to discipline him in order to make him more respectful to others but nothing seemed to help. Kirsten sometimes felt like he was the most self-centered, egotistical, laziest child on the planet. He had no friends, none whatsoever, and all the kids in his class seemed to hate him to the point that they didn't even want to talk to him. Kirsten knew that everyone though he was a loser, and deep down inside of her she thought it too. His only friend seemed to be a small ugly, mousy girl named Summer. She was by far the dumbest girl in school, and even at the age of twelve, there were rumors about her drinking, partying and taking drugs. But even she wasn't a real friend; she was just using him when she needed money, or she needed someone to do her homework for her. She never spoke to him in public, even she had a reputation to uphold.

Kirsten almost felt like she hated him sometimes. Sandy was disappointed too, she could tell. The way he looked at him sometimes after Seth was having one of his tantrums … she knew what he was thinking; she was thinking the same thing. How could that child be theirs? What had they done in another life to get him? Why them, WHY?

Sandy wanted to try again but she refused. She didn't want another child like Seth, and what mother would?

She was in the kitchen when she got the call that afternoon It was the hospital, they wanted her to come in, They didn't want to tell her why, just that it's very important that she came right away.

She drove down immediately, called Sandy on her way. He said he would meet her there, but she knew it will take him a while to get there as it was Tuesday, and he was working in the less fortunate part of town, volunteering his legal expertise to those in need.

The memories came flashing back when she entered the hospital, but she had to hurry up, she was told it was impotent for her to get there quickly.

The nurse in the nurse's station was looking at her oddly, but maybe she was just imagining things. She was told to wait and that the doctor would come right over.

That was when she saw her again, that blonde woman from twelve years ago. She looked much older, and even worse than before. Her face was filled with bruises and she was sobbing. Before Kirsten could even think, the doctor came and asked her to enter his office.

She was nervous. The doctor looked so serious and there was another man there, she thought he looked like a lawyer, which couldn't be good. She had been hoping that Sandy would be there with her, but she knew it would take him a while to arrive.

The doctor introduced the man beside him as the hospital lawyer. Kirsten nodded politely; she really just wanted to know what was going on. The doctor looked at her and then at the man beside him, and started talking.

He told her about a boy name Ryan. He was Seth's age, but lived with his mom and step-dad across town, in Chino. He was brought to Chino's hospital a few days ago after his step-father had beaten him and his mother. He was so badly hurt that he had needed a blood transfusion, and since the hospital had been low on blood that month, they asked his mother to donate the blood for him. It was when they tested her blood that they found out she couldn't possibly be the boy's biological mother. The hospital had to ask for an emergency unit of blood to be sent from another hospital, which eventually saved the boy's life. After Ryan recovered, the hospital began to investigate his mother.

"She produced what looked like a legitimate birth certificate from this hospital, that she had been given twelve years ago after she gave birth to her son in a Caesarean section. The only other woman," the Doctor continue, "that gave birth in a C-section that day … was you, Mrs. Cohen. We don't know how' it has happened, but we think that the babies were switched, and Ryan might be your biological son."

There was a moment of silence after the doctor ended. Kirsten didn't say anything, shocked. The doctor asked if she needed some water, but she shook her head. She looked at the doctor, and with a weak voice she said, "I want to see him … Ryan. I want to see him right now!" The doctor tried to tell her that there were still tests to be done, and they were still not sure of anything yet, but she insisted, and the doctor had no choice but to take her to him.

He explained that she wouldn't be able to talk to him. That she'd have to see him throw a glass window, but she didn't care. She needed to see him, and it had to be now.

The second Kirsten saw the boy, she knew. He was so thin, his face so bruised and sad, but she saw right through it. That bountiful, soft blond hair and his big blue eyes, just like her own, her mother's … He was thin, but he looked strong. He had the same serious look that Sandy got when he talked about his work, for the poor families that needed his legal expertise. Seth never looked like them, he had dark hair like Sandy but it wasn't soft and shiny, it was hard and curly and almost impossible to comb. Both she and Sandy had blue eyes but Seth's were dark and small, and almost evil. She always wondered about it, but she never thought, it never crossed her mind … not in a million years, that he might not be her son.

She felt like everything made sense now. There had always been something wrong with Seth, she always knew it, but hadn't let herself think about it. She hadn't wanted to think badly of her son, she wanted to be a good mother to him. What kind of mother hates her son?

She began to cry. All those years of sleepless nights, doubting herself and feeling like a failure as a parent, had come to an end. It all made sense now. She was not a bad mother; she had just been raising the wrong son.

The boy suddenly looked towards her. He couldn't see her, it was one of those one sided mirrors, where one could look into a room from the outside but the person in the room could not see out. His face turned directly at her made her cry harder. She wanted to run over to him and hug and kiss him, she wanted to tell him that it was all going to be okay, that she finally found her son, the son she always knew she deserved to have. The good son.

**To be continued … **


	2. Chapter 2

**Beta for this and for the pervious chapter:** monnie44

**The good son – chapter 2:**

_Thank you for all the great reviews everyone :)_

_This is a very dark chapter, and very different from the one before. _

_This chapter is from Ryan's POV. I felt it was important to picture Ryan's life without his real mom and his real family, just like I did with Kirsten in the chapter before. She always wanted a real son a "good" son. And all Ryan ever wanted was a mother that would love him and would take care of him._

Ryan was sitting in class, but hadn't been listening to anything the teacher was saying. He had too much on his mind. AJ was angry at him. But that was nothing new; AJ was always pissed at him for some reason or another, and sometimes for no reason at all. Most of the time he didn't even know what he did wrong, AJ just had it in for him. Whenever they got into a fight AJ would always accuse Ryan of thinking he was better than him. Ryan didn't know why he said it, but whenever he did he would get really, crazy mad! Then he would beat him. Ryan shuddered when he remembered. AJ was ruthless to him, the last time he'd beaten him up he couldn't get out of bed for three days.

The bell rang. School was over for the day. Ryan didn't know what to do; he didn't know where he was going to go today. He'd spent the last three nights over at Theresa's house, but he couldn't intrude on them anymore. No, he'd have to come home this time and face the music.

He stood by the door, too scared to open it. He knew AJ would probably be there, and that he'd probably be pissed at him, God knows why.

Quietly, Ryan opened the door. He noticed his mom on the couch, sleeping it off. 'What else is new?' Ryan though to himself. When he came closer he noticed that there were bruises on her face and arms. 'He must've taken it all on her over the last three days,' Ryan thought to himself again. He felt guilty, but he didn't know why. It wasn't like she was a good mother to him; she'd never done anything for him. She'd been an alcoholic for as long as he could remember, she neglected him, let AJ beat him, and she didn't even notice he was gone for three days. He looked at her and thought about all the times he wished he'd a real mom; all the times he used to fantasize that Theresa's mom was his as well.

Theresa's family was as poor as they were, but her mom worked herself to the bone in order to provide for her children. Their house was always clean, and there was always food on the table. Whereas in his house, unless Ryan cleaned it, everything was always dirty; all the furniture old and broken, and he was lucky if he got to have milk with his cereal in the morning. But the worst thing was AJ, his mother's boyfriend. He never knew his dad, he'd been sent to jail when his mother was three months pregnant with him, and AJ had been in his mother's life for as long as he could remember.

Ryan was scared of him, and for good reason. AJ practically enjoyed making Ryan suffer and looked for any excuse to beat the crap out of him. His mother did nothing, most of the time she was just too drunk, but otherwise she was just too weak and scared herself. Hell, she never even came to help after AJ had finished with him and he was rolling on the floor in pain.

Ryan heard the door of the bedroom open, but before he had any time to think he felt AJ's huge hands grabbing at the back of his neck. "So, you finally came home. You little bitch, where the fuck have you been in the last three days?" AJ asked. But Ryan was too scared to answer, too scared to do anything. "Answer me, you piece of shit!" AJ demanded.

Unfortunately for Ryan, AJ took Ryan's silence as a sign that he thought he was too good to answer him. He shoved Ryan roughly against the wall, and started to slam his head into it; one, two, three, four times. Ryan's head started to bleed but it didn't make a difference. AJ turned Ryan around and started punching him in the stomach. Ryan felt like he couldn't breathe, like every part of his body was burning with pain. He kept telling himself that it would be over soon, that he just need to make it for a little while longer, like all the other times. It would end soon and when it did he could crawl back to his room, get into bed, and cry himself to sleep.

But this time AJ didn't stop, he just kept beating him and beating him until Ryan felt like he was going to pass out. He felt himself fall to the floor, and everything around him turned dark. He welcomed the darkness, he wanted to lay in it forever, and never wake up.

Ryan couldn't remember much after that, just bits and pieces. He remembers trying to open his eyes. His right eye was swollen shut and he couldn't open it, but his left eye was fine. He saw he was still in the living room, but that AJ wasn't there anymore. Ryan wanted to get up, but he couldn't, everything hurt too much. He could see that it was already dark outside but he didn't know what time it was and he was cold, so cold. He knew it wouldn't do any good to call for his mom, but he tried any way. He called her name, begged her to come help him, but there was no answer. She was either not home or too drunk to give a damn about him.

The next time he woke up it was daytime. Early morning, he was still on the living room floor. Still couldn't get up, and still cold, so cold that he noticed he was shivering. He tried to call his mom again, but was not surprised when no one answered again.

Ryan wanted to die. He didn't care anymore; he just wanted all the pain to be over. He wanted his poor excuse for a life to end. He felt tired and alone, he had nothing and no one. He was lying on the living room floor after being brutally beaten for no reason. And he was so cold, he felt like he was freezing, like his body was a giant block of ice. He fell unconscious again.

The next time he remembered waking up he was still on the living room floor. But this time there were people around, someone called his name, and he thought he saw Theresa's mother crying.

He remembers red lights, a siren, white corridors, and worried faces. Someone was calling his name again; a man with a white robe. Was he in a hospital? He wasn't sure what was going on. He tried to tell them not to bother with him, that they should just let him die, but he didn't even have enough strength to speak. So he just closed his eyes again and disappeared into the safe, calm darkness.

He didn't want to wake up, he wanted to stay forever in the darkness, where he didn't need to think and didn't need to be afraid. No one could hurt him there. But despite desperately wanting to stay numb, Ryan felt himself coming back to life again. He was still in a lot of pain, but it wasn't as bad as before, and he wasn't cold anymore.

He opened his one good eye and saw that he was in a big white room. There was a woman in a white robe and she was looking at something on his hand. It was an IV. 'I'm in a hospital,' he thought to himself. He tried to talk, but nothing came out. Still, the woman seemed to have noticed him. She came over and put a kind hand over his mouth and told him to try not to speak. She brought over a glass with a straw in it, and put it in his mouth. The water flowing down his throat was so good, and he hadn't even known he was so thirsty, but he felt alive again.

The next few days flew by so fast and he was worried at first, afraid that they would ask him questions. Like who did this to him? And where was his mom? And why had she not come to see him? He was so relieved when they didn't ask him anything. He didn't want to explain because he knew he'd have to lie. If he told the truth they'd send him to a shelter or a group home, and he didn't want to go there, not again.

He knew that it was strange that no one was asking him anything about what happened to him, but he didn't care. He liked the hospital. For the first time in his life someone was taking care of him. The nurses were nice to him; they always came when he called them and tried to ease his pain. There were other children in the ward too, and the hospital had a play room for all the sick kids. When he got a little stronger, the nurse had brought over a wheelchair and taken him there; it was the most fun he'd ever had. He was a child again, he could play and have fun, and he knew no one would hurt him there.

Ryan didn't want to get better. Getting better meant he'd have to go home, or worse, to that group home again. Ryan shuddered at the thought of going back there. The hospital was the only place anyone showed him compassion, the only time someone actually cared about his health, he didn't want to go back to being invisible again.

So naturally, he was crushed when he saw the social worker that morning. He'd known that the day would have to come. He still had some bruises, but he was able to walk again, and almost all of his bones were healed.

She told him that he'd probably have to go to a group home again. He'd almost cried when she said it, but put on a brave face. She said they had to go and do one more test at Newport's hospital, and she'd take him to the group home from there.

Ryan was crying when he said goodbye to the hospital staff. They were the only people in the world that ever cared about him, the only people in the world that almost made him felt loved, and now he was heading back to hell again.

He knew what it was like to be in one of those group homes, he'd stayed there before. The last time he was there he was about nine or ten years old. His mother had been caught buying drugs and been sentenced to a few months in jail. The social worker came and took him and it had been such a horrible place, even worst than home.

He remembered how there had been so many kids in that place, so many that he didn't even have a bed; he'd had to sleep on the couch on his first few days. The place always smelled bad, and someone was always crying or shouting. The women who ran the place had little patience with kids and her husband, Dave, didn't think twice about beating them. Ryan didn't mind the beating, he was used to that. But he remembered one time when he'd been told to go up to Dave's bedroom, and he'd told him to take off his pants … it had hurt so bad … he'd closed his eyes the entire time … No, he never wanted to go back there again. He'd rather die.

He tried to ask the social worker to let him go back with his mom; he told her that what happened to him had nothing to do with her. But she just nodded and kept on driving. He was desperate and felt lost, so lost.

Ryan found himself sitting in a big, almost empty, room at Newport's hospital. There was nothing there but a desk, two chairs, and a big mirror taking up the entire wall. He didn't know why he'd been brought there and he didn't care. All he could think about was the group home and what was waiting for him.

Suddenly feeling like he was being watched, Ryan looked up, but all he could see was his own reflection in the mirror, all bruised and pale. He looked down again. He didn't want to see his own pitiful reflection. He didn't know who was looking at him from the other side of the mirror and it didn't matter, the person obviously didn't care about him. No one cared about him; he was all alone in the world. 


	3. Chapter 3

When the social worker's car pulled up next to the house, he couldn't help but think that nothing had changed since the last time he'd been there. The house looked small, old and neglected, and it smelled rank and unpleasant.

The odor became even worse the minute he entered the house. The memory of the rancid smell had stayed with him for a long time after leaving the house the first time, and the thought of him being back here made him feel nauseous.

The house was full of children everywhere—screaming, crying, talking and running around. The social worker went to talk to Carol, Dave's wife. He couldn't hear what they were talking but Carol looked tired and impatient as if she could care less about being there. He took another look at the room, and this is when he saw him. It was Dave, the man who had previously made his life a living hell.

Ryan wanted to run away when he saw him. Dave threw him a sardonic grin, winking at him, and he knew all too well what that look meant.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to run away and get out of there, but he couldn't move. He was too scared, and he couldn't believe he was in this house again.

Ryan's eyes followed the social worker as she left the house, and he didn't want to look back.

* * *

The lawyer tried to explain it to her again.

"Mrs. Cohen," he said. "You can't just take him. There are tests to be made, and we need to compare Ryan's DNA with yours. We haven't even finished our investigation. All we know so far is that he's not Mr. Atwood's biological son, but we don't know if he's yours."

But Kirsten wouldn't listen to them, for she knew he was her son, and she felt the need to protect him the way only a mother could.

She hated to use her father's name but she would do whatever she felt she needed to do if it meant she'd get to spend time with Ryan.

She told them that she's Caleb Nichol's daughter and that if they care anything about keeping their jobs, they had better let her see Ryan again and let her keep him until they finish their investigation.

The hospital lawyers looked worried when they talked to the other hospital executives surrounding them. Kirsten could see their faces behind the big glass door. They looked nervous and she could tell they were having a heated discussion, but she didn't care because she needed to see him again.

One of the lawyers came out and informed her that a social worker had been sent back to the group home Ryan was staying at, and she was instructed to bring Ryan back to the hospital.

Kirsten was beside herself. There was no way anybody was going to prevent her from seeing her son again!

* * *

Carol told Ryan that he would have to sleep on a mattress on the floor tonight because there were no beds available for him since the house was full. She then disappeared into the kitchen when the baby in her arm started crying.

Ryan looked around anxiously. Much to his relief, Dave was nowhere to be seen so he went upstairs and looked for a mattress to sleep on. He finally found a dingy, smelly mattress and set it down onto the hard, cold floor. He lied down—exhaustion getting the better of him. All he wanted to do was sleep and try to pretend that none of this was happening. He wanted to forget that he was here again.

Caught off guard, he suddenly felt a large, cold, calloused and sweaty hand on his neck. He heard his voice, and smelled his fowl breath.

"I've missed you boy," Dave whispered, smirking. Ryan felt the gruesome man's hot breath blow against his ear, and he shut his eyes—terrified. He wanted to die!

* * *

Sandy was late. Kirsten told him that it was important so he did everything he could to make it there, but traffic was too heavy during this time of the day. He knew she would get there before he would so he told her to wait for him, but she said she'd just meet him there.

He saw her holding her head and crying when he entered one of the hospital offices. She got up and hugged him. She couldn't speak so he just held her, telling her how much he loves her and that no matter what happens, they are still a family and everything will work out.

There was a silence when she told him about the mess up at the hospital the day their son was born. He was shocked but at the same time he felt like he always knew because his gut had told him for years that something wasn't right. He'd always felt that way. They both had.

He held her hand and they looked into each other's eyes.

"No matter what, we have each other, and we'll do anything to bring him home with us," he assured her.

They hugged again and she put her head over his shoulders and cried again. She felt so lucky to have him. He was her rock. No matter what, Sandy would make everything right. She knew it.

* * *

Ryan was in his room. It was cold and damp and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Dave told him to sit on the bed as he looked at him.

"You look even better than I remembered you boy," he said while he stroked Ryan's hair. Ryan didn't want to cry, but the tears just came down anyways.

"Please don't," he whispered but Dave ignored him and kept on stroking Ryan's hair—his other hand going down Ryan's shirt touching his body everywhere.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with you," Dave told him while his hand crept down even more. Ryan felt sick, like he was about to pass out.

"This is not happening… this in not happening… this is not happening," he kept telling himself.

He was just about to get lost in that very dark place in his head— the place he disappears to when his life becomes too much of a hell to live through, but then he heard a loud knock on the door.

He heard Carol's voice from the other side, "Damn it Dave, why is this door locked?"

Dave panicked and removed his hand from under Ryan's shirt.

"What the hell do you want?" he yelled backed at her.

"The social worker is here again," she said, annoyed. "They're moving that new kid to another home and I can't find the little bustard anywhere!"

Dave looked at Ryan, but he didn't move.

"I'll look for him!" he yelled again. "I saw him in one of the bedrooms earlier."

Carol seemed satisfied by Dave's response. She was just relieved that she didn't have to look for him herself.

Ryan heard her footsteps as she walked down the stairs, and for the first time he dared look up at Dave. He looked nervous.

Dave looked at Ryan and grabbed him by his hair. Ryan made a silent cry and then looked down, but Dave made Ryan look at him again and in a cold, hard voice he told him, "Not a word kid! You got me?"

Ryan only nodded.

"You get to go now, but we both know that your sorry ass is gonna come back here sooner or later and I'll get to finish this, and if you'll make troubles for me, I'll make sure to make you scream the next time you're here."

Ryan was frightened, and he just wanted to get out of that room.

"Yes sir," he whispered.

He wasn't going to tell anybody anyway. After all, who would believe him?

Dave was holding Ryan's arm when they went down the stairs. He let go when they got into the kitchen where the social worker waited for him. Carol looked annoyed at Ryan for making them wait so long before showing up.

"I caught him smoking with some of the older boys upstairs," Dave lied.

"Go on boy, tell them you're sorry you made them wait," Dave barked at him.

"Sorry," Ryan said, looking down at the floor.

The social worker didn't say anything. Instead, she grabbed Ryan's hand and led him to the car. Ryan felt like he could breathe again when the car drove off.


	4. Chapter 4

The good son – chapter 4:

The moment the lawyers told them Ryan was on his way from the group home, Sandy started making calls. He knew that mentioning Caleb's name would only get them so far and he wanted them to be able to take Ryan home with them tonight. He remembered the year they tried to adopt previously. They had to go through all those tests, background checks and such. He knew social services could use this information in order to approve them as foster parents and let Ryan stay with them until the test results would prove that he is theirs.

Sandy got a hold of his friend Fritz in the public defender office and asked him to start e-mail and fax request for guardianship. He wanted to make sure Ryan would be going with them tonight.

Kirsten went with one of the nurses to do the DNA test. When she heard Sandy's voice outside, she knew he'd do what it takes to bring Ryan home with them. Sandy started the test right after Kirsten finished. Kirsten used the time to call Rosa and asked her to prepare the guest room upstairs and put some clean sheets on the bed.

Kirsten was happy that Seth was with Caleb on a sailing trip for two weeks because she didn't know what to tell him or Caleb, and she wanted to have some time alone with Ryan before having to deal with the rest of the world.

* * *

Ryan was happy to be in the car with the social worker again. He tried to ask her where they were going and wanted to know if he'd be returning to his mom, but the social worker said she wasn't allowed to tell him anything yet. He didn't care really. As long as wherever he was going was far away from Dave and that group home, he was fine with it.

To his surprise, they ended up in that Newport hospital again. But why? He was just there earlier in the day and they'd made him take that weird test, telling him to sit in the room with the big mirror for a long time.

Maybe they were making him take another test. Maybe they would even let him stay in the hospital. He'd like that actually. He wanted to stay somewhere he'd be safe.

As the social worker led him through a bunch of offices, he felt like the people around were looking at him, but he didn't know why.

Finally, they went into a large, fancy office and the social worker told him to sit down while she talked to a man in a suit.

* * *

Kirsten's heart skipped a bit when they informed them that Ryan was in the hospital again. One of the lawyers came over to them and explained that they would be able to meet with him now, but they were not allowed to introduce themselves as his possible parents until the test result came back. He also told them that their guardianship request was in process and that they might be able to take Ryan with them tonight, but even then they wouldn't be able to tell him anything until the tests prove that he's theirs.

Sandy and Kirsten agreed to everything. After all, they just wanted to see him and decided they'd find time for all the rest in the upcoming days.

* * *

Ryan felt like he'd been sitting there forever. Everyone around him was giving him strange looks so he looked for the social worker who brought him, but she was nowhere to be found. The man in the suit that she'd been talking to before had left the room a couple of minutes before and Ryan wasn't sure what he was suppose to do.

He finally heard the door open and the man in the suit entered the room followed by a blond woman and dark haired man with thick eyebrows.

The woman looked so sad, and the man looked very thoughtful and serious. She said her name is Kirsten and that her husband is Sandy but looked like she was about to cry. Ryan didn't understand why. The man was talking to him now; he told him that they wanted to adopt him and that he might be staying with them for the night.

There was something about them…he didn't even know what it was. All he knew was that he'd never felt this way before. He usually didn't trust people, but with them… there was something different about them, especially the woman. There was something about her—the way she looked at him; the way she almost made him feel like she wouldn't let anything bad happen to him… but this was silly…why would she even care about him? Why would anyone care about him? He'd be stupid to trust them. He'd just end up getting hurt again. He decided he needed to stay tough and not show any emotions or else he'd get hurt again. This was the only way he knew how to survive. As far as he knew, that Sandy guy might be just like Dave or A.J.

They were waiting for him to say something but, he didn't know what to say. He was scared and he was tired of being jerked around.

"What about my mom?" He asked. He noticed that the blond woman did her best not to cry again when he said it, and he immediately felt guilty for hurting her, even though he didn't even know why she would care about him asking for his mom.

The man in the suit walked closer to Ryan and told him that they couldn't talk to him about his mom right now—that the meeting was meant for him to get to know Sandy and Kirsten. Ryan nodded, but he didn't get it. Why couldn't they tell him anything about his mom? Did something bad happen to her? He was surprised he even still cared after all the shit she put him through, but he did.

* * *

Nervously, Kirsten entered the room, trying her best to keep calm and not cry right in front of him. Sitting so close to him, she noticed the bruises on his face and also how thin and pale he looked. She knew he was attacked by his step dad, the social worker told them about it just before she left and she'd told them about Ryan's family and about what he went through in the last few weeks to end up in the hospital. She felt guilty that she wasn't there to protect him from all of this.

Sandy told her that Fritz had a friend in social services and that he would send them Ryan's file. She wasn't sure she wanted to read it though.

She didn't want to leave the room, but the lawyer called them out, asking them questions and making them sign the documents necessary for them to take Ryan home with them. It was getting late so she wasn't surprised when she looked at the room where Ryan was sitting and saw him putting his head on the table next to him. His eyes were close. He must be excused she thought to herself.

The lawyer told them that it would take a few hours to get all the documents ready. She sighed, just wanting to take him home.

* * *

Ryan felt like he was sitting in that big office for hours until Kirsten and Sandy came in and asked him if he'd like something to eat. Keeping eye contact with the floor, he nodded. Sandy came back a few minutes later with a box of apple juice, a pastrami sandwich and 2 granule bars that he bought from the hospital cafeteria. He was also holding a box with two glasses of coffee for him and Kirsten. Ryan did his best not to eat too fast. He was hungry, but the last thing he wanted to do was get sick in front of these strangers. It was tough though since he hadn't had anything to eat since morning.

Sandy and Kirsten sat next to him, drinking their coffee and sending kind looks his way. He didn't get it. What did they want from him? This was making him nervous.

The man in the suit came in again and Ryan saw Sandy and Kirsten sign document after document while continuing their private conversation behind the big, glass door. Just moments later, a secretary came in and told the man in the suit that the fax came in. Everyone left the room again and when they returned, Kirsten grinned widely as Sandy told Ryan that he can finally go home with them.

* * *

Kirsten decided to leave her car in the hospital parking lot. She figured she could always get someone to pick it up tomorrow, and right now she wanted to drive home in the same car as her family.

Ryan looked exhausted by the time they got in the car so Kirsten gave him permission to lay down in the back seat of Sandy's car.

"Thank you, ma'am," He whispered.

She wanted to tell him that he doesn't have to call her _ma'am_, but he looked too tired to talk. Sandy started the car and as she looked back at Ryan, he was lying on his side in the back seat with his eyes closed, clearly sleeping. She took Sandy's jacket and covered him with it gently. They were going home.


	5. Chapter 5

The Good Son – chapter 5

They didn't speak much on the ride home. Ryan was sleeping and they didn't want to wake him. When they were finally home, they didn't know what to do. Should they wake him up? He looked so peaceful just lying there sleeping.

"I'm gonna carry him home," Sandy said finally. Kirsten nodded.

Sandy was surprised at how light Ryan felt when he finally had him in his arms. The kid was thin, but he looked strong.

Kirsten opened the door and they went inside. The house was dark and Sandy was whispering for Kirsten to get the lights.

The movement and the noise must have woken Ryan up. He had no idea where he was, and his whole body stiffened with anxiety. It was dark and that man, Sandy - he was holding him, his hands all over his body. Ryan panicked.

No, this cannot be happening—not again! He needed to fight this. He knew there was no way he'd survive _it_ happening to him again.

"Let go of me! Let me go!" He screamed.

Startled, Sandy tried to tell Ryan to relax, but there was no stopping the obviously frightened kid who was kicking and screaming for Sandy to let him go.

Sandy tried to put him down, but hysterically, Ryan managed to shove him, causing both of them to fall to the hard wood floor with Ryan on top just as Kirsten finally turned the lights on.

When she looked down she noticed that Sandy seemed to be in pain, and Ryan... he just looked terrified. She called his name, but he ignored her, got up from the floor, and started running. She ran after him, begging him to stop, but there was no stopping him. He was like a wounded animal running for his life.

Hoping she couldn't find him there, Ryan made his way into a small service closet. However, just seconds later, he realized she'd spotted him. He locked himself inside.

He heard her calling for Sandy and asking him if he was okay. As he heard Sandy and Kirsten's voices nearing the door, he curled himself into a ball and pressed himself into the wall. He was shaking.

"I really did it now," He thought to himself. "They're gonna kill me for that." He felt tears running down his face, but he couldn't stop them.

He didn't know why he did it. He had never fought back before—not with A.J, not with Dave, not with anyone that tried to hurt him. But he guessed being safe for a few weeks while sick in the hospital and then immediately being thrown out to that group home into Dave's hands made him realize something; he can't do this anymore, he can't live like this again. He would rather live on the streets than live with A.J. He'd rather die than let Dave mess with him again.

He heard Kirsten and Sandy behind the door calling him to get out, promising that everything is going to be okay, telling him that he is not in trouble and that they won't hurt him.

He was scared, but he knew that he would have to open the door eventually because if he didn't open it, Sandy would, and then things would be even worse for him. He only knew one thing: as soon as he could, he was going to find his way out if this house. He'd run away—so far away that no one would ever find him. He could take care of himself, after all. It wouldn't be any different from what he'd already been through so far.

He knew they were probably gonna beat him up for this, but he'd have to be brave and take it for right now... just until he could find a way out of this house.

Kirsten and Sandy didn't know what to do. They tried everything to get Ryan to open the door. They felt terrible for making him so scared.

"It's my fault," Sandy said with a tired voice. "I should have just woken him up. I shouldn't have carried him in like this."

"It's no one's fault. You just wanted to make him comfortable. He got scared because it was dark and he was in a strange place," Kirsten said softly.

Suddenly they heard the door open and waited for Ryan to get out, but he didn't.

Kirsten opened the door carefully and she saw him there, all curled up against the wall of the closet. He looked scared—his hands covering his face as if he were protecting himself, readying himself for impact. Seeing him like this almost killed her. It was one thing to hear the social worker talk about the abuse he'd been through, but it was quite another to see him like this, scared of out his mind and just waiting… expecting to get beat up.

Ryan's body shook with fear in anticipation of being hit. He wondered what they were waiting for and wished they'd just get it over with. The first few minutes of a beating were always the worst.

Kirsten tried to calm him down, even asking her husband to leave the room because she knew that Ryan might be more responsive if he wasn't there. Sandy didn't want to go and leave Ryan like this, but understanding that it was the right thing to do, he agreed.

Kirsten sat there on the floor next to Ryan, rubbing her hands over his back and trying to help him relax. He flinched at the physical contact, trying to push himself even further against the wall. She gently cajoled him, trying to get him to remove his hands from his face so that he could see her... so that he could see that Sandy was gone and that she wasn't going to hurt him. She wasn't sure how she did it, but finally after minutes of talking to him, petting him, and telling him that he's safe, she was able to make him sit up, and he buried his head in her shoulder and cried.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan was sitting on the bed in one of the Cohens guest bed rooms, he wasn't sure how he got there, and the last thing he remembered was Kirsten hugging him while he was crying.

He didn't know what it was about her, but the way she hugged him and the way she talked to him… she almost made him feel loved. It was a new feeling for him.

* * *

Kirsten was relieved that she finally managed to get Ryan to stop crying. She sat there with him for a while and just hugged him then put her hand in his and led him to one of the guest bed rooms upstairs. He followed her without making a sound.

It was a fairly big room with a big double bed in the center of it. There were two small couches next to a window that opened to a balcony that during the day time had a gorgeous view of the ocean. The room also had a small bathroom attach to it.

By the time Kirsten and Ryan arrived in the guest bedroom, Rosa had already put fresh sheets on the bed. Kirsten told Ryan that she got him a tooth brush and that she'd put clean towels in the bathroom.

* * *

Ryan just sat there and listened while Kirsten explained where everything is. When she was done she asked him if he needed anything else.

There was something he desperately wanted to do since he left the group home. He wasn't sure if he should trouble Kirsten about it, but there was something about her…he knew he could trust her.

"Would it be okay if I use the bathroom?" He almost whispered.

He had a very long and hard day and he still felt Dave's hands all over his body making him feel dirty. He wanted to wash the memory of this day. He wanted to feel clean again.

* * *

Kirsten was glad to hear his voice again.

"Of course you can, sweetie" she said softly.

"I can look for something for you to wear to bed while you're in the shower. I just bought my son, Seth, new pajamas, but he refuses to wear them because he wants the ones with Superman on the front and the one I got had a picture of Batman," She rolled her eyes and smiled.

* * *

Ryan just nodded. He wasn't sure he should agree to take her son's cloths, but he felt like she really wanted him to have it, and he wasn't sure why but he wanted to please her.

He finally entered the bathroom when she left the room and slowly took his clothes off, hanging them on a hook on the bathroom door. He noticed that he still had some bruises on his body from the latest beating and reminded himself to make sure to cover himself. He didn't want Sandy and Kirsten to start asking questions.

He finally entered the shower, hoping the warm water would sooth him. Resting both hands on the shower wall, he closed his eyes and let the water fall all over his broken body. He started to feel himself relax when, suddenly, the events of the day came back to him. He could feel Dave's hands again, touching him, sliding down his back and into his stomach, making their way in between his legs.

Ryan felt sick. He grabbed a bar of soap and started rubbing his body with it desperately— needing to clean himself from Dave's touch.

He wasn't sure how long he did this. It must have been a while because he finally heard a knock on the door and Kirsten's voice on the other side. She was asking if he was okay.

"I'm okay. I'll be out a second," he answered in a shaky voice.

She must have not noticed his voice because all she said was that she left the clothes for him on the bed and that she would come to check on him later.

When he heard the bedroom door closing, he finally came out of the bathroom and wrapped himself with a big white tower. He then sat on the bed trying to compose himself. He was breathing heavily. He hated feeling like this and wished he could forget—wished that _it_ had never happened to him, but it did, and there was nothing he could do to erase it from his memory.

He finally managed to calm himself enough so that he could get dressed. He noticed the clothes Kirsten left for him: grey pajamas that had a black and yellow picture of Batman on the front. The pajamas were slightly too big for him, but they felt soft and warm against his skin.

Starting to feel tired again, he sat down on the soft comforter of the bed and yawned.

* * *

Kirsten was worried about him. His voice had sounded strange when she called for him from outside the bathroom, but still she didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable so she told him she'd be back in a few minutes to check up on him.

She went down stairs and talked to Sandy, who was sitting in the living room waiting for her. As she explained to Sandy how worried she was about Ryan, Sandy nodded. He was worried too, but he wasn't sure what else to say so he just kissed her and told her that it would be okay—that whatever happens they can handle it.

She could tell that he wished he could have done more to help her with Ryan. It was killing him to see Ryan scared of him, and she knew that if this terrible thing wouldn't have happen—if Ryan would have grown up with Sandy as his father, he would have been a very different person. Sandy was a wonderful father and the kindest man she ever met, and she wished Ryan could have known that.

* * *

Ryan was just about to get into bed when he heard a knock on the door and Kirsten's voice from the other side asking to come in.

She smiled when she saw him wearing Seth's PJs and told him she was glad it fit him. She asked him if he needed anything else and he shook his head 'no,' thanking her again for letting him use the bathroom.

She must have guessed how tired he was because she asked him if he was ready for bed, and he nodded.

* * *

Kirsten wanted so badly to cover him and kiss him goodnight, but she could tell that he was in a fragile state and her effort to comfort him would be futile so instead, she watched him crawl under the covers as she turned off the light switch and wished him good night.

She heard him hoarsely whisper, "Good night, ma'am," and she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Ryan was at his house in Chino—his body pressed against the wall and AJ's hands on his neck, strangling him.

"You good for nothing brat! I fucking need to kill you for this," AJ barked at him.

Ryan looked terrified. His eyes were wide open and he was gasping for air.

"Please, I can't brea…" Ryan didn't get to finish the sentence before AJ grabbed him again and pushed him to the floor.

Ryan was on his hands and knees coughing and trying to catch his breath when AJ started kicking him, making him fall further onto the floor. Ryan knew there was nothing he could do now. There was nowhere to run and AJ was too strong so he curled himself into a ball and tried not to cry too hard when AJ's boot continually crashed into his aching body. He was just waiting for the darkness that was sure to come; he closed his eyes and pried for it to come soon.

When he opened his eyes again, he was at the group home. There were kids all around him screaming and crying. Ryan ran out of there, but when he looked back he saw Dave running after him and panicked—starting to run faster and faster until he couldn't see Dave anymore.

Ryan stopped to catch his breath when he noticed that he was standing outside of his house in Chino again. He moved closer and looked inside the house from one of the broken windows. Noticing his mom's passed out on the couch with a bottle of Vodka in her hand and AJ injecting himself with what looked like a dose of cocaine, Ryan knew he couldn't stay there. Not tonight.

He walked to Theresa's house but no one was home. It was the holidays and they were visiting their relatives in Mexico.

Ryan wasn't sure what to do so he walked the streets for a few hours until he couldn't walk anymore. Eventually he found a bench and lay down on it, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he was in the group home again.

Dave was pushing him against the bed, laughing at Ryan's terrified face. He took off Ryan's shirt and started touching him.

"No, please stop…please… I don't want to do this!" Ryan was almost screaming.

Dave slapped him hard across the face.

"Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit! I don't care what a worthless trash like you want or don't want to do, you are going to take it, and you are going to love it!" He spat each word with hate.

Dave took off his pants and started moving in on Ryan.

"No please, please let me go! Please let go of me!" Ryan was crying hysterically.

He was hyperventilating when he felt a pair of hands on his body. He was hearing a voice now, but it didn't sound harsh and evil like Dave's. Instead, it was sweet and soothing. It was Kirsten. She was telling him something, but he couldn't hear her. He tried to focus on the voice again and finally he heard her say, "Ryan, wake up!"

* * *

Ryan woke up sweating and breathing heavily. It took him a while to remember where he was. He saw Kirsten looking at him from the other side of the bed. She asked him if he's alright, and he was about to say that he's fine when he felt his stomach turning. He ran out of the bed, passing Kirsten on his way to the bathroom.

* * *

Kirsten watched him puking his guts out—his body shivering while he did so. She came closer and asked him if he was okay again. He didn't answer.

He finally stopped vomiting and sat on the bathroom floor hugging himself and rocking his body from side to side. She came even closer and laid her hand on his back, but he flinched away as he felt her touch causing her to back up.

Kirsten filled a glass of water and handed it to Ryan, who took it from her with shivering hands.

"Thanks," He whispered hoarsely.

"I can make you some tea if you want," She offered.

"No, I'm okay now…. I'll be okay," He said while getting up from the floor and heading back to the bedroom.

Kirsten came after him, shoving one of the couches in the room and moving it next to his bed.

"I'm gonna stay with you for a while… just until you fall asleep again," She told Ryan.

"I'm okay really. You don't have to stay," He said with a tired voice.

"I know I don't have to. I want to," She smiled at him.

Ryan just nodded and got into the bed again, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep again.

Kirsten was relieved to see him fall back asleep so quickly and started to leave the room when she felt Ryan's little hand touching hers.

"Don't leave," He whispered, his eyes still closed.

She sat back on the couch and looked at his sleeping form. He seemed peaceful now.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep next to him, their hands still holding.


End file.
